The Message
by DeweyDrops
Summary: A mission on the verge of going awry isn't helped by unpredictable weather. Team fic with a focus on Benji and Brandt. One-shot.


**The Message**

The mission had already been falling apart before the first rumbles of thunder moved in. Seconds later, the rain followed. First a few drops, then a sudden downpour whipped in all directions by gusts of wind from the night air.

"Shit!" Benji grimaced as he threw his jacket over his laptop, desperately trying to keep it safe while still monitoring the team. Situated on the roof of an old warehouse, he scrambled to find cover.

"Benji?" Ethan's voice was tense over the comm, sensing yet another snag in a mission that seemed doomed to fail.

"Ah…just a bit of rain," Benji replied as he assembled a makeshift tent over the laptop with his jacket. "N-nothing to worry about." Lightning flashed and his view of the security cameras grew fuzzy on the screen. "How are we on the target?"

"Don't ask," Jane murmured a few seconds later. The target-James Reilly- was an extremely dangerous illegal arms dealer with fiercely loyal associates. Yet he was also known for being a complete gentleman. Jane had spent the evening politely laughing and smiling but was still no closer to getting the man alone and the opportunity to get even the slightest hint of information had yet to present itself.

"Benji?" Brandt's voice had an air of concern, and Benji felt slightly unnerved at how Brandt could sense when he was hiding how he truly felt. "You alright up there?"

"Yep!" Benji responded, too quickly and too upbeat to be convincing. Water was seeping through his jacket and onto the laptop's keyboard. The screen flickered again. "Just…you know, wet." He caught sight of two figures moving towards the stairwell just at the edge of the screen before the laptop switched off completely.

"Dammit!" There was no concealing his frustration now. Thunder crashed loud enough to shake the building, and prevented Benji from hearing the door to the warehouse roof break open.

"Alright, I've lost the security cameras," Benji sighed in defeat. His stomach sank at the thought of letting down his team. "I'm bloody useless up here."

"What happened?" He could tell Ethan was not happy.

"Rain." Benji responded. "A..lot of rain." It seemed like such a lame excuse even though it was the truth. He closed his eyes for a moment, mentally chastising himself for not being better prepared. For failing a mission because of rain. Not a stronger, faster opponent, not because of a military-grade security system, or a well-placed shot from a notorious assassin. Just rain.

A strong hand clamped over his mouth, forcing Benji's eyes open in surprise. Before he could make a move for his gun, another hand twisted his arm behind his back.

"Well, what've we got here?" the menacing voice was close to Benji's ear. "Looks like someone's sniffing a little too close to our cargo."

"Boss won't like that," a second voice-further away- added with barely contained glee.

"But _we_ like it," the first voice continued as the hands increased their grip on Benji. "We like it _a lot._"

Benji's blinked as the downpour increased, raindrops plummeting into his eyes. The lightning only offered brief glimpses of his captors, which made them all the more terrifying. The one gripping him was big and broad, a giant of pure muscle. The second was small, quick, and mean, with a face like a weasel.

"So…" the giant's voice was as low as the rumbles of thunder. "Where we gonna start?"

"I wanna know how he got so close to the cargo doors," the weasel answered. Benji could hear the flick of a switchblade. "How bout we start here?"

The hand over Benji's mouth pulled away. He felt the cold steel press against his throat. "Well?"

Benji shivered, both from the soaking rain and helpless fear. The truth was the team had no idea where Reilly hid the cargo bay-it was one of the toughest pieces of the mission to uncover. He'd been placed on the roof because it offered the best vantage point to monitor tonight's operation.

"I…didn't," Benji gasped. He regretted the words instantly as the blade slid from his throat and his whole body was hoisted into the air and thrown onto the wet ground. He barely had time to react when a large hand whipped across his face, filling his vision with spots.

"Ya didn't?" the giant laughs. "So you was just lookin' for a Wi-Fi signal or somethin'? And it just happened to be two feet from the cargo bay?"

"Yeah," Benji replied. His comment was met with a blow to the stomach, one that caused him to double over into a fetal position.

The weasel snickered. "Looks like Roscoe sent us a lil' smartass." Once again, large hands roughly grabbed Benji and lifted him off the ground. "Good thing we know how to laugh."

Benji caught the glint of the switchblade as the weasel brought it close, just under his collarbone. The giant held him firmly in place.

"We got a message for Roscoe," the weasel said as he tore Benji's t-shirt open. "Wouldn't want ya to forget."

Benji bit back a scream as the weasel pressed the tip of the blade into his skin, sliding it straight down, then turning it across at a perpendicular L shape. "He quits poachin' our territories in South America," the weasel snarled as he cut an E shape onto Benji's skin. "And we stay outta the east." The blade continued its work, carving an A and a V. "And we let him live, maybe." The thug finishes his message with another E. "Got it?"

Benji groaned in pain just before he heard a loud bang that wasn't thunder, followed by cry of surprise from the weasel, who dropped the switchblade and collapsed, shot from behind.

"Hey!" the giant yelled. Benji immediately dropped low and flipped the giant over his shoulder. He followed with a swift kick just below the thug's kneecap, the crack of bone ensuring the giant wouldn't be getting back up.

He looked up from the thugs to see Brandt standing in front of him, sliding his gun back into his holster.

"You okay?" Brandt asked; panting as raindrops began to cover his suit jacket.

"Uh-huh," Benji replied, though the thought of facing his teammates after his failure filled him with shame. "How are we on the operation?"

"We're good here," Ethan's voice broke in over the comm. "Rendezvous at Point A."

Benji folded up his laptop, avoiding eye contact with Brandt. As they descended the stairs, Brandt slipped off his jacket and slid it over Benji's shoulders. Benji smiled in appreciation, but the gesture only made him feel even less worthy of his team.

They reached the rendezvous point and waited in silence for Ethan and Jane to pick them up.

"I'm sorry," Benji whispered at length, just as the headlights from the van come into view.

"For what?" Brandt furrowed his brow.

"For…you know. The computer getting soaked. Getting caught. You needing to save me." He felt his throat tighten as Brandt watched him. "For blowing this whole thing."

Brandt shook his head. "Let's just wait for Ethan's de-briefing."

The van pulled up. Benji reluctantly climbed into the back, with Brandt right behind. Shame flushed his cheeks as he glimpsed Ethan and Jane in the front. As the team drove off, Benji kept his eyes cast downward. He gazed at the letters carved into his chest, rivulets of blood combining with rainwater. LEAVE. After tonight's events, he felt he'd deserved the message.

"Here," Brandt reached over and pushed his suit jacket away from Benji's chest, further exposing the cuts. He pulled the van's first-aid kit into his lap and popped it open. Benji looked on in silence as Brandt picked up a gauze cloth, wet it with antiseptic, and began to drab it against the message on Benji's chest.

Benji hissed at the initial sting. The cuts were shallow, but the message they left buried itself deep within Benji's skin, one that would remain long after the physical scars faded. He'd failed his team. This was it. It was his time to leave. The only question now was whether volunteering to resign would lessen the pain of knowing he'd disappointed them all, including his leader and hero.

"Great work, Benji," Ethan said just as Brandt discarded the blood-soaked gauze.

Benji looked up in shock. There was no hint of sarcasm in Ethan's voice.

"I owe you one," Jane added, glancing back with a grin. "If not for you, I'd still be listening to Reilly drone on and on."

Benji blinked. "I…blew our cover." His voice was little more than a whisper.

"You also got the big break we needed for this damn mission," Ethan replied. "Three weeks of nothing and now we know where Reilly's cargo bay is, where he's supplying, and the identity of one of his main rivals, and where that rival is supplying. I'll be sleeping better now that I won't have the Secretary breathing down my neck."

"Yeah, but it was an accident," Benji protested. "It's only because I got caught and they know-"

"They know that _Roscoe_ has people after them," Brandt cut in. "I'm happy to let them think that."

"It was an accident," Benji insisted, not wanting praise for his error. "That could have ended badly."

"But it didn't," Ethan finished as they drove on. "It didn't."

Later that night, the team adjourned while Ethan reported on the mission's progress to headquarters. Brandt and Benji walked back to their hotel. The rain had eased up considerably, and the thunder and lightning had long since moved on.

Benji's mind still reeled over his turn from failure to hero of the day. Ethan had assured him that he'd acknowledge Benji's contribution to the team's success, but Benji hoped he wouldn't. It was a commendation he didn't deserve, the work of another man who was smarter, more capable than Benji, who just stumbled into it.

"You're more than capable," Brandt's voice broke Benji's melancholy thoughts. "You know that, right?"

Benji jumped slightly, unnerved for the second time that night by Brandt's ability to read his mind.

"Dumb luck," Benji replied, his shoulders slumping. "And you saving my arse." He gave Brandt a sad smile.

"Benji," Brandt stopped, grasping Benji's arm. He gently cupped Benji's chin with his other hand, urging Benji to look him in the eye. "Benji, stop. How many missions do we have to complete? How many life and death situations so we have to face? How many global disasters do we have to avert before you get the message? You're a part of this team. An essential part of this team. Every single one of us trusts you with our lives."

Benji's eyes began to water as he shook his head. "Just makes it all the worse that I let you down."

"No." Brandt countered. "Mistakes happen. Thugs find agents. Equipment malfunctions. Hell, it rains. The point is, we adapt. We make it work. We get through it. And we do it together. Please don't ever think you failed us." He pulled Benji into a hug. "And you know I'd never hesitate to kick the ass of anyone who threatens you. Just like you'd do the same for me."

Benji smiled for the first time that evening. He returned Brandt's embrace, finally accepting the message. Now his eyes misted with gratitude for being a part of a team that trusted him so completely.

"Thanks, Brandt," Benji whispered as Brandt let him go.

"Anytime," Brandt replied as they walked on. His eyes settled on a nearby bar. "Hey, I think you've earned a beer."


End file.
